


I come with k n i v e s

by MMXIII



Series: The Never Been Better Suite [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gore, Horror, Psychological Trauma, Violence, this is really quite unpleasant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-03-26 09:29:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3845785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MMXIII/pseuds/MMXIII
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even as his left arm rears back and slips out of your bruised peripheral, you know you won’t hurt him. You can’t.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I come with k n i v e s

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what to do with this so I'm just putting it here ^^
> 
> NB this is unhappy & unresolved - abandon all hope ye who enter etc etc :P

He smashes you into the floor. Your head snaps back, heavy, cracks so hard your skull bounces back off the carpet. You’ve got a hand up braced against his chest, straining, and another curled around his hip. Even as his left arm rears back and slips out of your bruised peripheral, you know you won’t hurt him. You can’t.

The first hit dislocates your jaw, mangles the grunts you can’t hold in. You hear yourself whine, head sideways, cheek down in warm wetness. The second ruptures your right eardrum. You surge up and try to roll him, but it takes two hands to keep the metal arm down. There’s a subtle flash of silver and then he’s driving a four inch blade through your insides. You know it’s serrated because you’ve seen him flipping it absentmindedly around the apartment, watching tv; making coffee. It goes right up through your guts, under your ribcage-

His arm twists under your loose fingers and your lungs seize up like torn canvas on a sailboat. It hurts. _So much._

You slump heavily over him, trailing torn viscera, throat slick and burning with your own blood.

‘Bu- Bucky…’

His snarl is feral, face contorted with rage. Confusion.

‘It’s me-’ you rasp, blood slippery between your teeth.

_‘Please. It’s-’_

He snaps your arm and you fall sideways, heavily, onto a newly dislocated shoulder; something cracks in your neck. The noise you make is awful. Like something dying.

Maybe you are. Maybe this is it. The last time.

You think you might be crying.

Barely breathing at all you feel him pushing you down onto your back. You head lolls to the side. You can’t feel your neck. Mechanically, you can’t move either: he’s severed your abdominal muscles, and most of whatever was underneath them.

 

Your hand spasms against his thigh, fingers twitching against bare skin.

‘Bu- Buck…nnn-’

You can feel the blood bubbling in the back of your throat, already tacky under your tongue.

Your eyelids flicker. He stares at your hand.

 

You can’t breathe.

You can’t breathe.

You can’t-

 

 

 

 


End file.
